


awaiting the flood

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Drowning, Force Choking (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kink Awakening, M/M, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 02:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18421416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Hux has harbored a strange,dangerousfantasy all his life, and only someone as powerful and enigmatic as Ren can help him finally realize it.





	awaiting the flood

**Author's Note:**

> ...Now I'll admit this is a weird one. I had an idea for a kink that I had never seen explored before. Now knowing Kylux fandom, someone has probably already done it, but I still wanted to try my hand at it. Think of it as a combination of asphyxiation kink, sensory deprivation and uh...drowning?
> 
> If it's not obvious, there are some descriptions of near death experiences and an incident that could be viewed as suicidal, even though the actual context is different. Just in case there are people who don't want to read that sort of thing.
> 
> Anyway, if this still sounds up your alley then enjoy!

Hux remembers looking out the window, out into the grey world of Arkanis, heathered by rain and fogged with endless swimming clouds that showed only the ghosts of the trees and mountains behind them. Sometimes he too had felt like a shadow swallowed in fog, all detail awash and darkened, left to endure the pound of the rain but still expected to remain steadfast, to keep straight despite the storm around him.

The ceaseless drain of water frightened him just as it fascinated him, the unyielding power of natural forces that could easily swallow up everything he was and ever could be, everything he cares about. Hux could still hear the warnings from his nanny droid about the rivers that braided their way across the planet in a silver net, one in particular that cut right past his home, how they could be unpredictable despite the regularity of the rain—trickling and innocent one moment before roaring the next, swelling the dull banks and sweeping through earth and grass and heavy stone and unlucky fauna—and children too if they weren’t careful, his nanny never forgot to warn in her steady, chirring voice.

But in those days Hux still carried a streak of disobedience, though he kept it mostly to himself, entertaining thoughts of going down to the river to feel the rain soak through the plain clothes his father made him wear. He imagined mud slapping onto his shoes, the drum of rain in his ears until they rung with little else. He felt the numbing cold as he slid down the banks towards the river, to watch the calm trickle bloat into gushing flood. The first few times he thought about it, his thin, shivering legs would hold fast against the foamy waters, but once as he lied in bed in the dark listening to the bewitching patter of the rain, he let it take him away. He wondered what it might feel like, to have the currents pummel him about, to feel water rush into his eyes and ears, his mouth and lungs, to have even the dim grey light of Arkanis’ skies slowly vanish, until everything was gone but muted, encompassing dark.

Once Hux allowed himself to entertain the thought it only grew. Every time he glimpsed the river from between the sodden trees outside it floated to the forefront of his mind, even as a child. And when his family left Arkanis, leaving all his other memories indelibly tainted as they were forced from their home, those of the river and the rain and the throttling, _comforting_ darkness remains pristine, washed of all impurities.

Things had changed slightly once Hux matured, however. Not the images, no, but the _context_ in which they resurfaced. Now, they accompanied a strange tickling in his belly, a new kind of focus different than that he’d had before.

One time these feelings had become too much, and Hux had found himself stopping up the sink in the refresher of the Academy’s barracks, watching the water rise and rise and rise until it nearly spilled over the edge, before he took a deep breath and shoved his head down into it. His stomach had squeezed, almost like he needed to pee as he kept himself there, eyes shut, hearing only the distant splash of the faucet as the water ran over the edge of the sink and onto the refresher floor.

He only pulled himself to the surface at the disturbed roar of one of his fellow cadets as he busted through the door, nearly slipping on the slick tiles. Hux remembers stumbling away from the sink, nearly falling himself as he grabbed the knob and struggles to turn off the faucet as more jeering faces crowded the doorway, until an instructor had broken it up and pulled Hux away.

His father had berated him as a result, sent him for a psychological evaluation which Hux easily passed because he already knew the benefits of lying. He kept the true nature of his little accident hidden, deep in the depths of the rivers of Arkanis. And there it had remained, an unattainable fantasy.

Then Hux met Kylo Ren.

The first time he felt the brush of his co-commander’s power had been their very first encounter. Hux hadn’t particular believed in mysticisms like the Force, at least beyond mere combat potential, but when Hux had first seen that imposing, unfurling mass of darkness, that impassible mask—he’d _felt_ something. A _draw_ , as if Ren were a vortex of gravity, hyperdense and pulling Hux towards him with little effort. A presence had flickered on the normally sharp edges of the general’s mind, and his breathing had quickened, as if pressure had brushed over his windpipe, stifling his senses for a flicker before it vanished. It had left Hux shaking beneath his uniform, just barely able to keep his countenance with a professional tip of the head.

He would come to view Ren as an dauntless force of nature in time, power only restrained as a means to keep it honed and focused. When properly unleashed he would barrage anything in his path, man and machine alike, imperceptible might allowing him to transcend the mere abilities of his body.

It was breathtaking to witness, and whenever Hux got the chance to see, to _feel_ Ren in action, a familiar, visceral clench in his belly and endless trickling in his mind made their reappearances.

And now they’re both here, inside Hux’s quarters, a proposal laid out and already decided upon. Ren is fully dressed while Hux has already stripped off his coat, boots, and uniform jacket, leaving his undone pants and one of his undershirts for now.

Hux believes Ren doesn’t know about his visions, these dreams of Arkanis, unless he’s caught fleeting glimpses of it in Hux’s mind, when he’s at his weakest. There had been times where Hux allowed vulnerability around him, where he’d sunk into these old memories, and perhaps Ren had witnessed them then. Most likely wondered at their meaning, if they were entirely metaphorical or not. It’s entirely possible Ren probably doesn’t even know about Arkanis, Hux’s past with it, its endless rain.

But what Ren knows, what he’s seen doesn’t matter. The only thing Hux needs from him now is his power and his hands.

Ren seems nervous, as if uncharacteristically doubting his proficiency with the Force, but Hux feels no such compunctions—he has seen him dismantle the delicate inner workings of a com-link with a stir of his fingers, as well as split an oncoming enemy speeder straight down the middle. He has unusual amount of confidence in Ren’s finesse and power, which is good, considering what he’s asked him to do.

But even he can’t deny that _trust_ is a strange thing to feel towards Ren. Their relationship used to be so contentious, and in many ways it still is, yet that hadn’t stopped Hux from inviting him into his quarters, instructing him to use the Force so he could finally reclaim his fantasy.

Hux lies on the bed backwards, his feet near the headboard and his neck resting curved against the edge at the foot, tilting his gaze slightly past the ceiling. Ren walks in his periphery, still wearing his boots though Hux had told him to take them off once he entered his quarters. Perhaps he shouldn’t put faith in someone who clearly has a problem taking orders, but there isn’t anyone else who can bring him even _close_ to what he desires. Hux isn’t going to go chasing down another Force-user, and he’s not even sure it would be the same. _No_ , it has to be Ren.

Hux laces his fingers and rests them just below his sternum, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against his palms. He wonders if anyone has ever appeared this calm before a destructive force like Ren, been mad enough to trust him with their life. He might live to regret this, but there’s no taking it back now.

Ren’s hand drifts into view above him, fingers moving as if he’s tuning the strings of some invisibleinstrument. He still wears his mask, breathing hoarse and audible through the metallic filter at this proximity. Hux wonders what Ren might get out of this, if he had any motive when he agreed to Hux’s proposal. He honestly hasn’t given it much thought until now, when Ren looms above him, like a great, caliginous cloud obscuring the earth below.

Hux can already feel the Force, waiting in the wings, held at bay by Ren for now. Hux swallows as exploratory tendrils curl against his body, familiarizing themselves with its curves and angles, as if it needs to find a place weak enough to penetrate. He tries to keep his mind relaxed, receptive to Ren as he kneels beside the foot of the bed, tall enough in the torso that he still towers over him. Rough leatheris glovetips rest at his temples, lightly pressing inwards.

“Are you ready?” Ren exhales through his mask. Is he nervous? Aroused? Curious? Hux almost wishes he could see him without the helmet, witness what emotions play over his face but—it’s probably better this way, for the both of them.

Hux feels speaking might disrupt something—the trance of anticipation laid over his mind, the Force channeling between the two of them—so he only nods, watches the shine of his quarters’ light play on Ren’s helmet as he tips his head in focus.

Slowly, the sight about Hux starts to swim, concrete shapes and colors bleeding into one another. He blinks once, and the ceaseless black of Ren’s mask starts to spread out like ink in water, eventually overtaking everything else in view as veins of the Force permeate into the outer layer of Hux’s mind. It’s a cooling, calming presence, unlike the breathless fire he feels from the man in combat, and it’s so easy to slip under, to truly trust everything to Ren.

The hum of the _Finalizer_ ’s life systems fade away, muffled under the hiss of something else, something more intrinsic and familiar to Hux than even his beloved ship. He feels Ren fishing through his memories, bringing the right one to the surface, and the sound grows louder, changing into the endless hail of rain.

As Hux listens it starts to built to a crescendo, a clamorous harbinger that Ren stokes as he slowly numbs all of his other senses, forcing Hux to rely only on the familiar recollection of his home planet playing out in his mind—and the pressure on his windpipe as the Force curls around it.

Suddenly, everything around him squeezes, and even the fleeting visions of Arkanis—its shadowed trees like fingers scraping the clouds for clemency, the grey skies above, the water rushing around his ankles—rips away as he’s _pulled_ violently down, senses suddenly submerged and stifled, the river finally swallowing him up.

The current pushes down upon him, sinking its cold claws into his chest as breath bubbles from his lips, life racing in silvery pulses to the surface as descends further and further. Dark water wraps all around him, and Hux can’t hear, can’t speak, can’t think. His lungs empty of air, and his throat suddenly spasms, alarmed at the lack of breath. His mind floats, detached from his body on a long, glimmering string.

It goes deeper than any of his previous fantasies ever dared, the Force dragging him further down, down, the light above eventually dissipating completely. All warmth drains from Hux’s body save the sole locus in his loins, the throbbing desire present since his youth, the need to become completely _free_ , as detached from the physical world of suffering and hatred and _loneliness_ as he possible can. Hux’s lips slowly fall slack, his lungs ceased fighting for breath even as a visceral pressure builds to great heights inside of him, and _stars_ , it’s beautiful, it’s liberating, it’s everything he’s dreamed it to be for decades, it would be so easy if he were to just—

The warmth in Hux’s body bursts, and suddenly the shroud of silence and darkness and _death_ is pulled away, torn like strands out hair out of his skin, and Hux _gasps_ , pained breaths surging into his throat as the Force withdraws completely from his body. His body spasms involuntarily, hips rutting up as he soils his briefs with come. Dizzying orgasm floods his body, chasing the chilling acquiescence from every inch of his skin, every fiber of his muscles, spitting it out between his lips. Hux squeezes his thighs together and slaps his hand up to his throat, coughing as he curls onto his side.

“Are you alright?” Ren whispers, laying a hand on the back of Hux’s head. The sensation feels almost alien, like a shock to his system after what he’s just been through, but he allows it, especially as Ren starts to stroke his fingers through his sweat-stained hair in a surprisingly gentle gesture.

If Hux couldn’t speak before, he surely can’t now, so he just nods weakly. The answer might not even be true, but it reminds him what it’s like to move his body, to process words, to respond like a person who inhabits the conscious, mortal domain.

As he slowly comes down, Hux wonders just how close he came to irreparable asphyxiation, what Ren might have considered that very second before he released the Force, before he allowed him to breathe.

And now he strokes his fingers through Hux’s hair, speaking with odd care, voice no longer hampered by the mask.

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

Hux stares at the wall of his quarters, rise and fall of his chest slowly steadying. He doesn’t know what choice to make. Ren has been in his mind, seen and stoked his innermost desires. Surely he can decide for him. 

Another hand rests on Hux’s shoulder. Squeezes.

Ren stays.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to know what people thought of this one, I'm trying to experiment with an old style of mine while also exploring more in depth subject matter. Thanks!
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


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